Thank You for Assateague Island

Sometimes God takes one small, seemingly insignificant event to teach us all we need to know about life -- though it may take years to find that out.

Suddenly I was an adolescent, lost at sea in a Pittsburgh public high school of 3,600 students. Suddenly, I was surrounded by teenaged girls who obsessed about their clothes, make-up, hair, nails -- in short: how to beat their competition to impress the boys.

Boys and looking good seemed to be all that mattered in life. One gained social points by being beautiful, having a cute walk or giggle, and dancing well -- none of which described me.

I loved exploring the woods, admired the horses at the riding stable, and worried about the world's injustice and cruelty. I felt there was something very wrong with me. I didn't belong. I did not have the faintest idea of what to talk about with my peers. They yakked constantly to each other. What on earth did they have to say, while I could think of nothing?

If I ever did venture to say anything, I would rehearse it at least five times in my head before saying it aloud. It was in this state of bewilderment and loneliness that I spent my high school years.

If I ever did venture to say anything, I would rehearse it at least five times in my head before saying it aloud.

Upon graduation, someone asked if I could be a "chaperone" for a small girl scout troop, whose Jewish den-mother was named Mrs. Roberta Hoechshtetter. It was to be a 500-mile trip to camp out on the Assateague Island Nature Reserve for a few days. I had read about this wild windswept island in a children's book. It was a long narrow strip of land off the coast of Virginia. The eastern side had clean beaches facing the Atlantic, while the western side had lush marshes with shaggy-maned wild ponies.

I tried to tell myself not to expect anything too beautiful, so as not to be disappointed if the island didn't live up to its mythical allure in my imagination.

OFF ON AN ADVENTURE

We set off in two vehicles -- Mrs. Hoechshtetter, her daughter Wendy, and 11 girl scouts who were almost my age, and two other "chaperones." The girls were wholesome and down-to-earth -- nothing like my high-school peers. There were people in the world I could relate to, after all.

By the time we reached the island and pitched our tents I simply forgot about any social discomfort. Before I knew what was happening, I was experiencing joy with a group of fellow human beings for the first time since pre-adolescence. Feeling a new, warm life in my veins, my excruciating shyness melted into becoming the acknowledged comic of the group.

No matter that we never saw a wild pony. We swam in the sunny waves and just had fun.

That afternoon, a ranger came to our campsite and told us that everyone had to leave the island because a hurricane was on its way. Indeed, we could see in the distance that others were already packing up, and cars were slowly making their way on the one road over the water to mainland Chincoteague.

We paid no notice. As far as we could see, all was serenely calm. Even the insects and birds were nowhere to be seen nor heard. This was, of course, the "quiet before the storm."

That evening, we were smugly the last on the island, preparing dinner. Mrs. Hoechshtetter had suggested that we make a stew on a Coleman camping stove and we put it up to simmer covered it with its very heavy lid. I will never forget the sight of that heavy lid being blown off the pot by a sudden gale, fluttering off as lightly as a butterfly! As our tents were wildly ballooning and contracting, Mrs. Hoechshtetter gave orders to tie them down, pack up whatever we needed for the night, get into the two vehicles, and evacuate to the mainland.

Driving in a middle of a hurricane on a slick unlit road over the marsh was not a simple matter.

In the short time it took to secure the camp and pile into the two vehicles, it was pitch dark, and we were cold and drenched from the driving downpour. Negotiating the slick unlit black road over the marsh to the mainland was not a simple matter. It was hard to see where the roadsides ended and where the marsh began. The windshield wipers were on full speed, and the radio played The Doors' Riders on the Storm, which is accompanied by thunder and rain in the background, and Paul McCartney's Uncle Albert, whose chorus goes: "Hands across the water, hands across the sky".

It was these two songs that accompanied us as we carefully crawled on that slippery marsh road and made our way to a motel in Chincoteague. The next morning was glorious sunshine and blue skies once more. We arrived back on Assateague Island to unbury and set up our sand-covered tents, and continue our merry vacation until its end back in Pittsburgh.

LIFE AFTER ASSATEAUGE

I entered my freshman year at college much more relaxed and outgoing -- not the withdrawn, socially frightened person I was in high school -- the direct result of Mrs. Hoechshtetter's trip.

Time passed, and I worked as a counselor with delinquents, moved to Israel, studied at a women's religious seminary, and became a tour guide, which involved non-stop public speaking. I often thought back warmly upon that trip, and silently thanked Mrs. Hoechshtetter.

Some years later, I went to visit my family in Pittsburgh. I was in quite a gloomy state, after a potential marriage prospect fell through. I attempted to be cheerful, but was quite miserable.

My sister-in-law told me that every Friday the girl yeshiva students would go to a hospital, receive a list of the room numbers of all the Jewish patients, and visit them, wishing them a good Shabbos. Would I like to join them?

On the inside, I said, "REALLY not!!" But not wanting to appear shirking in my duty as a Jew offered the opportunity of performing the mitzvah of visiting the sick, I reluctantly agreed.

Next thing I knew, a group of us were climbing out of my sister-in-law's station-wagon and walking into the lobby of Montefiore Hospital. I was given the list of Jews on the 6th floor, and we arranged to meet again in the lobby in an hour.

This was truly not my cup of tea -- walking into the hospital room of a very sick stranger and paying a visit. I uneasily did my best, visiting about six patients, until I saw that the clock was nearing the appointed time to quit. There was one Jew in one room left. I stood, hesitating. "Oh, go ahead into the last room," I decided at the last moment.

FULL CIRCLE

There on the bed, with her eyes closed, was a pale woman who had lost her hair to chemotherapy. Sitting across the room, on a chair in the corner, was a stylish young woman. I said, to her, "Hello. My name is Tova Saul. I came with the yeshiva to wish patients a good Shabbos."

She sprang to her feet, crossed the room, and exclaimed, "Oh! That's so nice!" She extended her hand and said, "I'm Wendy Hoechshtetter."

In an instant, I recognized the woman on the bed.

In an instant, I recognized her mother on the bed, after all the years. I said, "Wendy ... it's me ... Tova Saul, who went to Assateague Island with you ... remember?"

She cried out, "Oh! Mummy will be so glad to see you! The nurses don't think she understands anything anymore, but I think she does!"

She led me close to the bedside, gently woke her mother who was too weak to speak anymore, placed her mother's hand in my two hands, and said, "Mummy! This is Tova Saul! Remember her from when we went to Assateague Island?!"

Mrs. Hoechshtetter's eyes opened so wide as she stared at me in silent, amazed recognition.

I slowly and clearly said to her, "Mrs. Hoechshtetter, I always wanted to thank you for taking me to Assateague Island. It was a turning point in my life. I was so shy and miserable in high school. And that trip really changed me ..."

She was all rapt attention, and a tear was rolling down her cheek.

"... Mrs. Hoechshtetter, because of you, I learned to enjoy being with people. Thank you so much."

I went back in a few days to see her again, but the nurses told me that she had passed away. I was so grateful to God for putting Mrs. Hoechshtetter in my life when I needed her most, and grateful that I had been given that chance to thank her.

This article is featured in Aish.com's book:Heaven on Earth. Buy it now!

About the Author

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Visitor Comments: 23

(23)
Anonymous,
February 9, 2016 8:30 PM

I was intrigued by the title of your article. I went to Assateague in 1965 to help with a mosquito experiment as part of Walter Reed research. The memory of that trip has lingered, so I opened the article. What a bonus! There is indeed divine personal attention. I, too have many relatives in Pittsburgh, so that , too, was an echo. Was the HS Taylor Alderdice? Thank you for sharing.

(22)
Anita K. Cohen,
February 9, 2016 3:23 AM

We each could use one event in our lives to live by.

I wish I had that one event for myself. Maybe it was that 5th grade teacher who opened my eyes to nature and science. I will never forget her. Thank you, Miss Hudepohl!

(21)
Paula Block,
October 28, 2002 12:00 AM

I also visited the island. I was with a elderhostel group/.

Tova really wrote an interesting story.
I am 65 but I remember the feelings of
being an outsider in high school.

(20)
Dorit Ernst,
October 4, 2002 12:00 AM

Thanks

Thank you very much for your story - it has reminded me of the purpose of life. I appreciate that kind of reminders very much.

Schalom + may G'D bless you!

(19)
Shira Levin,
October 2, 2002 12:00 AM

A trip to an island changes a life

When we least expect it G-d can give us
a life changing experience when we need
one. He is after all a loving Father
who cares for His children.

(18)
vivienne pearce,
October 1, 2002 12:00 AM

Touched my heart

So pleased that I read this....small acts of kindness can often turn into big events in life..Thank You Tova

(17)
Anonymous,
October 1, 2002 12:00 AM

Touching

Brought tears to my eyes. Shows Hashgacha Protis in one's life. Very meaningful. will share with my students.

Thank you.

(16)
Maureen Fonken,
October 1, 2002 12:00 AM

Big, big tears!

This was lovely.

(15)
betti miner,
October 1, 2002 12:00 AM

profound

Tova, what an inspiring story! I too find it hard to speak before people, I am a docent and give tours in the synagogue I attend. Thank you for a heart-warming story about your friend who you got to thank and say goodbye to. I lost a good friend of mine yesterday, but I have good memories of her too. Thank you Tova

(14)
Mrs. Yehudis Eisenberg,
September 30, 2002 12:00 AM

amazing!

Thank you so much for sharing this Hashgacha Pratis story. It touched my heart and will touch the hearts of all those who read it,I'm sure.

(13)
s.nusenbaum,
September 30, 2002 12:00 AM

So moved by your experience.

I had been downtown at a movie house - writing newly bought cards in its lobby cafe. A meditative activity one might say. A thought entered my mind to visit an older woman I knew from where we had both worked. I rode the train uptown and for some reason decided to make a left turn to go into the hospital knowing that she was there. I knew she was ill. Oddly, it was quite, quite late - certainly way past normal visiting hours. The receptionist at the information desk speaking in a very low voice advised me that she was in intensive care - and said I could go up and see her. No question as to whether I was family, I was not.

I saw Marsha in a state she would certainly not have wanted to be seen in by anyone. I spoke to the unconscious Marsha.. The Marsha I knew to be the person in spite of the effect of the drugs, the chemo - and told her how special she was.

Her sons whom I had never met I was told had just been to visit her and Id missed them. It must have been assumed somehow by the nurses that I was family.

Marsha passed away the following morning.

So many people had known Marsha.
Yet, somehow, it was me that was somehow guided to the hospital late that night to speak to her - given the chance to say to tell her she was special, contributed to the world, to say good-by.

(12)
Nils Mockler,
September 30, 2002 12:00 AM

The island is wild and movin towards shore, whils the ponies are feral and moving, in their own way.

If the stoy is literally true it shows dumb luck in getting off the island; it is tricky in daylight and in good weather.
School can be hell if you don't fit the mold, andserious kids who want to be a part of a better world need all the lock they can get.

(11)
Dina Blaustein,
September 30, 2002 12:00 AM

We Went To Seminary Together - GREAT STORY!

Tova, who I remember from seminary is a very feeling, caring HUMAN being, who I very much remember. I appreciate her sharing this inspiring and emotional moment of her life with us. During the last days of her life, Tova gave this special woman "nachas", comfort and joy. May "Tova"(which means good) continue to do much "good" in the world, as we need all we can get......

(10)
Bob Hathaway,
September 30, 2002 12:00 AM

Beautiful story

Thank you for such a beautiful story. I know I have wished many times that I could have met the man again who had such an impact on my life. I was the same as the writer in school and this man, a teacher, treated me with respect and taught me that I really was worth something. I will treasure that memory as long as I live. He made my life different because he took the time.

(9)
Susan Petre,
September 29, 2002 12:00 AM

Extremely moving

This article really touched my heart. I'm grateful the author got to tell her mentor how much she meant to her. It reinforces the idea for me not to wait to let people know how much they mean to me, because you if you wait too long you may miss the chance and regret it forever.

(8)
cathy cox,
March 26, 2002 12:00 AM

Assateague

What a refreshing article. Thank you!
I go to Assateague on the Maryland side and it is a wonderful place. My grandfather,William E. Green, helped to bring it into the national park system so it would never be developed and always enjoyed as it is.
I enjoy going there to get a prespective on myself and what is happening in my life. Take care and thanks again for sharing.Cathy Cox

(7)
Susan Petre,
January 27, 2002 12:00 AM

Very moving

I'm grateful that the author had chance to get closure with this lady. It's also a lesson that when we give of ourselves, we get so much more.

(6)
yehudit foster,
April 10, 2001 12:00 AM

I have had breast cancer and I go camping.

The struggle to fight cancer has left me wondering what tomorrow will be like. It is thought that I will live and I lovet to go into the forest and camp and go to the sea also and camp. There is not much in the US I feel inthe way of caring concern for ones fellow Jews. I found it difficult to make and have friends who are Jewish. I turned to nature and the outdoors to help heal myself in body, but I think I've lost all hope of having good friends who are Jewish in this life to share and so on with. I will however think about moving to a Jewish community over time if I am able--yet I feel if I do I'll find there is no one there to befriend and be friends with.

We seem to spend our charity donations in the Jewish community on not saving Jewish lives and helping each other but on soccer fields and swimming pools and leave those who need help to turn to sources that are not Jewish. Why does a federations service providers allege they do not replicate services in order to justify they spend no money to actually HELP someone? The dark days when I knew I had something wrong were lonely days as federations MSW's had nothing to offer either a divorced Jewess or a Jewess who had a problem with her breast and needed help to get a mammogram because of her husband not sending the support. That Jewish divorced women have no Jewish entity to turn to even when their lives are in danger is a social and community disgrace. I am the lead cite in my then states Supreme Court Gender Bias committee report under divorce finances. I've been able to find support outside of the Jewish community but inside the official line of Federation service entities is "it's not a Jewish problem". If a Jewish mother dies because of the state of residence of her divorce giving woefully inadequate alimony and her not being able to afford a routine pap smear and mammogram I see it as a Jewish issue. If a Jewish mother dies and leaves Jewish children with no mother to raise them then I see it as a Jewish issue.

If a Jewish woman is fiscally gutted by laws of a state that effectively create and impose on the woman in divorce a fiscal destruction I see it as a Jewish problem.

If a mother dies our saying to her child "here is a nice trip to Israel for you!" we have badly botched our role for that child cannot possibly believe the Jewish Community cares about him or her having witnessed his or her mothers unnecessary death.

(5)
Joy,
July 15, 2000 12:00 AM

Awesome!

I really enjoyed this article. This is great example of how, even when we don't understand the turn of events in our lives, God is orchestrating it all for the good.

(4)
Lili Feingold,
July 4, 2000 12:00 AM

Reinforces what we already know...a mitzvah begets another mitzvah!

I loved this article, not only because it was moving and well-written, I loved it because it's true. As Jews we know that a mitzvah begets another mitzvah, and here is yet another example. This piece belongs in Small Miracles III !

(3)
Bob Burg,
July 3, 2000 12:00 AM

This one made me cry

I'm not much of a cryer, but this story really got to me. What an awesome, wonderful story!

(2)
Anonymous,
July 3, 2000 12:00 AM

A beautifully written, moving account, which shows how Hashem runs the world, if we only go along with Him.

(1)
Tsivya Larson,
July 3, 2000 12:00 AM

I got chills when reading this article.

It is a blessing when we take the opportunity to tell someone this sort of truth.

I've been striving to get more into spirituality. But it seems that every time I make some progress, I find myself slipping right back to where I started. I'm getting discouraged and feel like a failure. Can you help?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Spiritual slumps are a natural part of spiritual growth. There is a cycle that people go through when at times they feel closer to God and at times more distant. In the words of the Kabbalists, it is "two steps forward and one step back." So although you feel you are slipping, know that this is a natural process. The main thing is to look at your overall progress (over months or years) and be able to see how far you've come!

This is actually God's ingenious way of motivating us further. The sages compare this to teaching a baby how to walk. When the parent is holding on, the baby shrieks with delight and is under the illusion that he knows how to walk. Yet suddenly, when the parent lets go, the child panics, wobbles and may even fall.

At such times when we feel spiritually "down," that is often because God is letting go, giving us the great gift of independence. In some ways, these are the times when we can actually grow the most. For if we can move ourselves just a little bit forward, we truly acquire a level of sanctity that is ours forever.

Here is a practical tool to help pull you out of the doldrums. The Sefer HaChinuch speaks about a great principle in spiritual growth: "The external awakens the internal." This means that although we may not experience immediate feelings of closeness to God, eventually, by continuing to conduct ourselves in such a manner, this physical behavior will have an impact on our spiritual selves and will help us succeed. (A similar idea is discussed by psychologists who say: "Smile and you will feel happy.")

That is the power of Torah commandments. Even if we may not feel like giving charity or praying at this particular moment, by having a "mitzvah" obligation to do so, we are in a framework to become inspired. At that point we can infuse that act of charity or prayer with all the meaning and lift it can provide. But if we'd wait until being inspired, we might be waiting a very long time.

May the Almighty bless you with the clarity to see your progress, and may you do so with joy.

In 1940, a boatload 1,600 Jewish immigrants fleeing Hitler's ovens was denied entry into the port of Haifa; the British deported them to the island of Mauritius. At the time, the British had acceded to Arab demands and restricted Jewish immigration into Palestine. The urgent plight of European Jewry generated an "illegal" immigration movement, but the British were vigilant in denying entry. Some ships, such as the Struma, sunk and their hundreds of passengers killed.

If you seize too much, you are left with nothing. If you take less, you may retain it (Rosh Hashanah 4b).

Sometimes our appetites are insatiable; more accurately, we act as though they were insatiable. The Midrash states that a person may never be satisfied. "If he has one hundred, he wants two hundred. If he gets two hundred, he wants four hundred" (Koheles Rabbah 1:34). How often have we seen people whose insatiable desire for material wealth resulted in their losing everything, much like the gambler whose constant urge to win results in total loss.

People's bodies are finite, and their actual needs are limited. The endless pursuit for more wealth than they can use is nothing more than an elusive belief that they can live forever (Psalms 49:10).

The one part of us which is indeed infinite is our neshamah (soul), which, being of Divine origin, can crave and achieve infinity and eternity, and such craving is characteristic of spiritual growth.

How strange that we tend to give the body much more than it can possibly handle, and the neshamah so much less than it needs!